


The (College) Adventures of Angus McDonald

by marywhale



Series: Author's Favourites [3]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: College, Gen, Humor, Post-Canon, Tumblr Prompt, a series of short interconnected stories, about angus at the academy of arcane sciences, also known as: the series where it becomes clear that angus knows too many people, and the fantasy soylent saga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-02 04:43:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14536908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marywhale/pseuds/marywhale
Summary: At age eleven, Angus McDonald helped save the world. Now he's thirteen and it's time to get back to basics—rounding out his education with a degree from the newly opened Academy of Arcane Sciences.





	1. Angus Mcdonald Makes Some Friends

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of interconnected, but standalone stories written in response to prompts I received on tumblr. (Find me [@marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com/).) I had a few people ask me to archive them on Ao3, so here we are!
> 
>  **Prompt:** "Powerful anon back with another powerful concept: did Angus have college friends. College is such a weird time and college kids are such weird people. Can you even IMAGINE. Someone starts a petition to have Angus become the new school mascot."

Angus McDonald makes his first friend at Lucas’s Academy of Arcane Sciences when a short purple tiefling trips on his way down the stairs of the Planar Physics lecture hall and dumps a smoothie on Angus’s shoes.

“Shit,” says the tiefling. “I mean shoot! Shoot, I bullied the professor’s kid. Kid, don’t tell your parent. Are you okay? Are you allergic to eggs? Or, like, sausage?” He pauses, red eyes wide. “Is coffee going to stunt your growth?”

“I’m thirteen,” Angus says, barely restraining himself from adding a reflexive _sir_. It’s a habit he’s trying to wean himself off of. He shuffles his damp feet, shaking off some of the smoothie. It’s brown-grey and looks like sludge. “What… is this?”

“Oh,” says the tiefling. “I call it drink-fast. ‘Cause it’s a full breakfast in a cup—coffee, toast, eggs, hashbrowns, sausage, and ice.” He pauses. “Also because you need to drink it _fast_ to get it down. It’s a prototype. I’m Jeremy, by the way. Are you, uh… _is_ your parent the prof? I swear I can clean your shoes. It was totally an accident.”

“I’m Angus,” Angus says, and casts Prestidigitation to whisk the disgusting drink off his feet and out of existence. “I’m the TA.”

Jeremy blinks down at Angus, like maybe he wants to call bullshit on the TA thing, and then takes in the stack of syllabi in Angus’s arms. “Fuck,” he says. “I spilled drink-fast on the TA.”

Angus can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him and Jeremy seems to take the fact that Angus is thirteen and in the Planar Physics graduate program in stride. Angus is used to being dismissed because of his age and maybe a bit of jealous or to awe, when people figure out that he used to work for the Bureau of Balance and that the Bureau of Benevolence is still _technically_ his legal guardian. Jeremy doesn’t connect the dots and Angus—feeling only marginally guilty over the lie of omission—doesn’t help him.

Jeremy, it turns out, has many friends and a study group who’s more than happy to accept Angus-the-young-TA as a member. Syr, a dwarf with a badly dyed pink beard, and Bernie, a half-elf who’s more concerned about maintaining his GPA than Angus’s age.

“Should we watch our language?” Syr asks, the day Angus joins their group. “I swear at planar physics as a concept, like, a lot. Kid, do you… know swear words?”

“I’m a teenager,” says Angus. “You can say fuck.”

He is an instant hit.

Angus hasn’t really had friends like this before. When he was young, he mostly read books in his grandfather’s library, and then he was busy solving mysteries and catching serial killers and saving the world. He and Mavis talk over their stones of farspeech and Angus and Jimmy are still pen pals, but this is different. Angus has _school_ friends for the first time. And they’re kind of adults, sure, but they’re _young_ adults and honestly Angus is more used to hanging out with grown ups than other kids anyway. Jeremy and the rest of the group bridge the gap between the two.

He knows he’s really part of the group when they lead him to the student pub for one of their study sessions and he has to pull them up short outside the doors. “I can’t go in there.”

Bernie frowns down at him. “Is it a religion thing?” he asks, because Bernie’s father is a cleric who takes his work much more seriously than Merle. “The coffee shop closes early on weekends, but we can do that instead. Who’s your god?”

“I’m Jewish,” Angus says. “And Istus, but this is because I’m thirteen.”

“Oh shit,” says Jeremy. “Dude, I forgot.”

Syr tilts their head, looking Angus over. “We could totally pass you off as a halfling,” they say. “This is fine. We can get him in.”

Bernie puts his beanie on Angus’s head and Syr takes off their leather jacket and hands it over. “I could cast Disguise Self,” Angus says, as he pulls on the jacket. “And just make myself look older.”

“You’re gonna get real into a planar physics problem and forget to re-cast,” says Jeremy. “Lucas gave out a tricky one about calculating the resonant properties of sapphire in Syr’s crystal dynamics course.”

Angus’s eyes light up and he turns to Syr, all eager anticipation. “I _love_ crystal dynamics.”

“I know,” says Syr. “It’s really fucking weird because it’s the _worst_.”

They make it about five steps into the pub before a server stops them in their tracks. “Hey,” she says, pointing at Angus. “You can’t bring a kid in here. Do you want us to lose our license?”

Jeremy clasps a protective hand over Angus’s shoulder. “This is my _son_ ,” he says. “You can’t kick us out.”

The server looks Jeremy, in all his purple glory, over, and then glances at Angus and his very incredibly human form. “Uh-huh,” she says. “You and your kid can’t be in here. It’s the law.”

“He’s a _grad_ student,” Bernie says. “Shouldn’t _all_ students be able to frequent the _student_ pub?”

“That sounds even less likely than the son thing,” says the server, and kicks them out of the bar.

Angus takes the rejection in stride because the pub is just obeying the law and his friends _really_ should have let him use Disguise Self instead of putting him in a beanie and a cool jacket, but everyone else takes it more personally.

“I can’t believe they kicked us out,” Syr says. “Bernie’s right, I mean—you’re a _student_ , Angus. Your fees pay for the pub. Shouldn’t you be able to use it?”

Syr would have a point if there weren’t plenty of other places on campus that his student fees paid for that don’t require him to be legal drinking age. “We can just go to the coffee shop for a few hours,” Angus says. “Or order a pizza and study in my dorm. I have a single.”

“Fuck,” says Bernie. “I wish I was a thirteen year old genius. I have two roommates.”

“Then they wouldn’t let _you_ in the pub either,” Jeremy points out. “And we’d really be screwed.”

“Hey,” says Syr. “We should start a petition. Let Angus into the pub.”

“ _Hell_ yeah!” says Bernie.

“That’s a great idea,” says Jeremy.

“Or we could put our names down for one of the private study rooms in the library,” says Angus.

Angus is overruled.

Syr starts a petition circulating campus. Most people don’t actually _know_ Angus, but that doesn’t stop them from signing to make Syr, Bernie, and Jeremy stop hounding them. Angus comes along for their signature gathering campaign, mostly to apologize to the harried student they harrass.

They’re at 153 signatures when Lucas calls them up to the Dean’s office.

“Angus,” he says, already looking tired. “Why?”

“Their hearts are in the right place,” Angus says, while Bernie asks Jeremy sotto voce if Jeremy knew Angus _knew_ Lucas Miller. “I tried explaining it was just the law.”

“Angus,” Lucas says. “Please, not this too. Not my own students. I already get weekly calls from Taako. Tell him I _know_ he’s Fantasy Justin so he’ll stop leaving me voicemails. I’m just trying to run a school. I’m trying to do good, like I promised.”

“I don’t know why you think I have any control over what Taako does,” Angus says. “I can’t even control my friends.”

“Wait,” says Jeremy. “Dude, are you talking about _Taako_? Like… from _TV_?”

“Yeah,” Angus says. “I’m his apprentice.”

“Holy shit,” says Syr.

“Why are you going _here_ when you could be at _Taako’s_ school?” Bernie asks, incredulous.

“Hey!” says Lucas. “This is a good school.”

Bernie looks Lucas right in the eye. “Be better if you let our friend into the student pub.”

Lucas lifts his glasses so he can pinch the bridge of his nose. There’s a familiar pained expression on his face and Angus realizes that maybe he likes his new friends because they have a lot in common with his old ones. “I can’t—it’s a _legal_ issue,” Lucas says. “You have to understand. It’s not that we’re prejudiced against Angus. We had to increase his pay to keep him here when Taako tried to outbid us.”

Syr and Bernie and Jeremy all exchange glances. “Taako’s Amazing School of Magic doesn’t do planar physics,” Bernie says. “Or I would have gone there.”

“I double-majored in Transmutation,” says Angus, because Taako only threatened to hire him so Lucas would pay him more.

Lucas pulls his hand away from his face and adjusts his glasses. “There’s no point in this petition,” he says. “There’s nothing the school can do, so can we _please_ —”

“Actually, there is,” Angus says, and pulls out his research notes from his satchel. “I reached out to my friends in the Neverwinter militia to ask about liquor licensing. If the pub had a patio, they could serve food on it and not alcohol and then they’d have an area where minors were allowed.” He places the stack of notes on Lucas’s desk. “Or you could apply to switch to a restaurant license, but I have a feeling you’d rather just open a patio. Enchanted, obviously. Magnus could probably build the furniture for you.”

Lucas flips through the notes and then looks up at Angus and his friends. “They’re not going to stop until I do this, are they?”

Angus glances over his shoulder at his friends, who are staring at him in shock, and then looks back at Lucas. “Probably not, sir, no.”

“Okay,” says Lucas. “Okay, I’ll build a patio so minors can eat at the student pub too.”

Syr lets out a triumphant cry. “Victory!” they say. “Not how I thought it would happen, but _fuck_ yeah!”

“I can’t believe Angus knows _Taako_ ,” Bernie says. “Wait, is Magnus Magnus Burnsides? Angus, _how_?”

“Angus, why do you have friends in the _militia_?” Jeremy asks. “What the fuck, dude? What else should we know?”

“I’m Angus McDonald, the world’s greatest detective, and I once helped stop the apocalypse,” Angus says, turning to lead his friends out of Lucas’s office. “I booked us a private study room in the library and if you promise not to start any more petitions, I’ll tell you all about it.”


	2. Jeremy Meets Taako

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:** "Angus’ college friends are amazing, I am already in love. People care for mah boy :’)) he deserves it! Also I am now curious about Jeremy’s fantasy soylent. Does he sell it. Does it take off. Will he ever meet Taako and how terribly will that go."

Spring has finally full sprung in Neverwinter. Angus and Jeremy are studying in the Academy of Arcane Science student pub’s newly opened patio, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. The table and chairs are all Magnus Burnsides originals and smell faintly of rosemary. They’re supposed to encourage concentration, but in practice Angus has only noticed an increased amount of students ordering focaccia.

He’s checking Jeremy’s homework when Jeremy reaches over the table and tugs his sleeve. “Angus,” Jeremy says, voice low. “Angus, is that  _Taako_?”

Angus hasn’t heard from Taako in two weeks. He’s still  _technically_  Taako’s apprentice, but Taako’s lessons are spur of the moment things, often sprung on him at the last minute. Angus is more or less used to Taako swanning in and kidnapping him for the day—or, on one memorable occasion, for the week—to impart a magical lesson. He’s also pretty sure Taako uses him as an excuse to duck out of responsibilities at his own school, so Angus keeps an eye on the Taako’s Amazing School of Magic event calendar to get a rough idea of when his next lesson’s coming up. He can’t remember anything on the schedule for today, but it’s not a perfect system.

Angus turns in his seat and there, in his wizard’s hat, wearing large sunglasses and a billowy silk blouse tucked into high-waisted pants, is Taako. He’s striding down the centre of the campus boulevard like he knows exactly where he’s going and he’s headed for the pub.

“Yeah,” says Angus. “I think I might have a magic lesson today.”

Jeremy gives Angus the same awed look his friends always give him when they remember that he knows the IPRE and once worked for the Bureau of Balance. “Holy shit. Bernie would lose his  _mind_.” Jeremy steals another glance at Taako. “Do you think… Lup’s here?”

“Lup isn’t here,” Angus says. “Jeremy, Lup is married and hundreds of years older than you.”

“You never know,” Jeremy says. “She married a younger man.”

* * *

“Agnes!” Taako doesn’t bother waving to get his attention when he gets within hearing range, he just yells. “Agnes, are you at a  _pub_? Are you breaking the  _law_? Do they  _know_  you’re a child?” Taako stops beside their table and leans against the railing, paying absolutely no attention to the fact that everyone in openly staring. He pulls off his sunglasses and hooks them on the neck of his blouse. “I’m so proud.”

“Minors are allowed to eat on the patio, sir,” Angus says, gesturing to the plate of fries set between him and Jeremy. “They don’t serve alcohol out here.”

“Fuckin’ rude,” Taako says, reaching over to steal a fry. “How is anyone supposed to enjoy a patio in this weather without a pitcher of sangria?”

“Mostly we’re studying for finals.” Angus watches as Taako takes a bite of the fry and make a face, but reach for another. Across the table, Jeremy is practically vibrating with excitement, eyes locked on Taako’s face. “Do we have a lesson today?”

Taako waves a dismissive hand. “Nah, school bullshit,” he says. “My kids are gonna come kick your ass. Got a competition thing planned. These fries are terrible.”

Jeremy’s face lights up. “Food, right?” he says, voice overly loud. “You gotta eat, but it’s like—so much time, or whatever. It’s inefficient and—you know, I keep telling Angus, but he doesn’t agree, but I’ve got… I make this drink? I’ve got this drink idea.” He pauses, leaning towards Taako. “Do you  _invest_?”

Taako stares at Jeremy, a strange tiefling in a green Academy of Arcane Sciences hoodie that clashes with his purple skin, like he’s only just noticed his presence. Taako gestures at Jeremy and turns back to Angus. “What’s happening here?”

“This is my friend Jeremy,” Angus says. “He’s very excited to meet you.”

“I’m a big fan,” Jeremy says. “Of your like—of saving the world? Big fan because like… I’m here. In the world. Still. So that’s good.”

Taako rests his elbows on the patio railing, watching Jeremy with his eyebrows raised. “Boy, things are looking good for Taako’s school, huh? Seems like we’re gonna crush this competition thing. Have to let Ren know she’s killing it on the acceptance standards.”

“Ren knows she’s doing a good job,” Angus says. “Did you leave her running the school on her own today?”

“She’s used to it,” Taako says, taking another fry and waving it in front of Jeremy’s face. “You good, my dude?”

Jeremy takes a deep breath, then nods. “I’m okay,” he says. “It’s just—I mean, you’re like—you’re like top three birds, you know? Like one of the best.”

“Top three?” Taako repeats.

“Lup, Barry, and then you,” Jeremy says. It’s a discussion Angus has had with Jeremy, Bernie, and Syr many times—one he’s careful to stay agnostic about because “rank the Birds” is only fun when you don’t know them all as real people. “Top three.”

“Below Barold, huh?” Taako says. “Right in the middle of the pack, pretty much. Three out of seven.”

“Yeah! I always have trouble from like—I mean, top three is easy, but how do you  _choose_  with the rest?” Jeremy says.

“Where am I on  _your_  list, pumpkin?” Taako asks, turning to Angus. There’s a glint in his eyes that says if Angus opens his mouth and says anything but  _number one_  then their next lesson is going to be on defensive magic with Angus testing his shields against Taako’s wrath.

“Oh, Angus never plays,” Jeremy says. “But I was saying—okay. Hold on.”

Jeremy bends down to unzip his backpack, fishing around inside of it. He pulls out a clear tumbler full of greyish sludge—the new and improved version of drink-fast.

“This is my invention,” he says, offering it to Taako with a flourish. “Food is so  _inefficient_ , you know? You waste all this time making it and eating it and, like, what’s so great about it? It’s just food. You could be doing  _interesting_  things instead of eating, you know? You could be inventing stuff or, like, exploring planes or whatever. Studying magic. So I made this.”

Taako eyes the tumbler with distaste. “A smoothie? Hate to break it to you, bubelah, but smoothies have already been invented.”

“It’s  _more_  than just a smoothie,” Jeremy says, setting the tumblr down on the table in front of Taako. “It’s a full meal replacement. You never have to waste time eating again. You can have  _this_  instead.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “I call it… Fantasy Soylent.”

Taako glances at Angus. “Seriously?”

“It used to be called drink-fast because it was a breakfast replacement and you had to drink it fast to get it down,” Angus says. “I helped him make some tweaks and he decided it needed a better name.”

Taako turns back to Jeremy. “And Fantasy Soylent. That’s what you went with.”

“Yeah,” says Jeremy. “It’s  _way_  better now. There’s no sausage. Or coffee. I just put in some caffeine pills? Same effect. Our friends Syr and Bernie like it. Angus too. Right?”

Angus hesitates, glancing at Taako. “I have… had it for breakfast. It  _is_  convenient. Jeremy makes it in batches and uses a stasis spell so it lasts.”

“I’m disowning you,” Taako says, matter of fact, and then picks up the tumbler. He turns it in his hands, examining the contents and making a face because  _yeah_ , it doesn’t look great. Angus only drinks it when he has no other options. It’s not as bad as it once was, but there’s still a decidedly eggy flavour and Jeremy  _definitely_  needs to use less butter on the toast before he blends it, but Angus introduced the idea of adding bananas to it, so now it’s  _mostly_  banana flavoured.

Doesn’t help with the colour though.

Taako pops the cap off the tumbler, takes a sip, and immediately gags. “Oh my  _god_ ,” he says. “Oh my  _god_ , D’jango, I can’t believe  _this_  is how you decide to kill me. I can’t believe this is how you decided to steal my powers.”

“It’s not that bad, sir,” Angus says, because it’s gross, but Jeremy is his friend. “Just tastes like bananas.”

“Bananas and  _eggs_ ,” Taako says. “Buttered toast. Fuckin’… are there  _hashbrowns_  in here too?”

Jeremy reaches up to scratch at the base of one of his horns. “Yeah,” he says. “And some tofu, since the sausage was no good. And milk.”

“Just  _eat food_ ,” Taako says. “This isn’t better than food. This is demonstrably worse than food. Food isn’t even that  _hard_.”

“Oh, I know. I can cook,” Jeremy says, smiling at Taako despite the criticism. “I just like Fantasy Soylent better for the efficiency. I’m looking for investors. So I can take it big, you know? I think  _lots_  of people will be into it once it’s on the market.”

“Let me get this straight,” Taako says. “You’re asking if I, Taako, magical chef, the most famous cook in the planar system, would like to invest in your meal replacement drink so people don’t have to eat food anymore?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy says. “It’s a  _great_  opportunity for you.”

“That’s gonna be a pass from Taako,” Taako says. “Just a  _big_  ol’ no. Seriously, have you maybe not  _tried_  food?”

“I mean, food’s fine,” Jeremy says, shrugging. “I like raisins a lot. And pizza’s good. Pizza flavoured Fantasy Soylent is my next project.”

Taako squints at Jeremy like he’s trying to work out if Jeremy’s fucking with him. It’s an expression Angus’s is used to seeing the other way around—people staring at Taako as he talks, trying to work out if he’s completely full of shit.

In Taako’s case, the answer is usually yes. In Jeremy’s, right now, it’s very much  _no_. Angus has been through too many iterations of Fantasy Soylent to ever think proposed new flavours are a joke.

“Ango,” Taako says. “Why am I  _here_?”

“Something about your school beating Lucas’s,” Angus says. “Other than that, I don’t know.”

“Huh.” Taako straightens up from the railing. “I should get back to Ren, I guess. Left her in charge on her own. Everyone will be behaving by the time I get back.”

“I doubt that, sir,” Angus says. “I’ll see you for our next lesson?”

“Maybe!” Taako says, and puts his sunglasses back on, waving a hand over his shoulder as he walks away, looking only a little shaken.

Angus turns to Jeremy. “Sorry,” he says. “Taako’s—you know, he’s Taako.”

Jeremy shakes his head, fast. “Are you  _kidding_  me?” he asks, grinning. “Taako  _drank Fantasy Soylent_. Bernie and Syr are going to  _freak out_. This is  _amazing_. This is the best day  _ever_ , dude. I can’t believe Taako tried my drink.”

“Yeah, but—” Angus stops himself. Jeremy absolutely saw Taako hating his drink. He’s just decided, probably rightly, not to give a fuck. “You know what, you’re right,” he says. “Taako  _did_  try it.”

“Fuck yeah,” Jeremy says, holding a fist up. Angus obliging bumps it. “Step fucking one on my quest for Fantasy Soylent domination. Taako might not be ready to invest  _yet_ , but he doesn’t realize what an opportunity he’s passing up. I’m going to  _blow his mind_  with flavour options. I’m going to nail pizza and then do a dessert one.”

Jeremy leans over the table, looking like he might burst from happiness and anticipation. “Angus, I’m going to take the culinary world by  _storm_.”


	3. Angus Calls Jeremy "Sir"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I just imagine all of Angus’ friends *Completely LOSING THEIR SHIT* the first time he calls one of them “Sir” He never hears the end of it. It’s his curse now."

The first time, Angus gets lucky. He’s reading a book on Transmutation from Taako and looking over Bernie’s crystal dynamics work at the same time, so he’s distracted. Bernie’s been trying to cram for his midterm and Angus promised to help him. Jeremy and Syr have better things to do with their Thursday night.

Bernie stands, rapping his knuckles against the fake wood of their table in Fantasy Starbucks. “You want me to grab you a drink, Ango?” he asks. “I need coffee.”

“Tea please, sir,” Angus says, and then freezes.

Bernie is distracted too, though. He laughs it off. “Did you just call me Syr?” he asks. “They’re not even here tonight, Ango. You definitely need a tea.”

The second time, Angus isn’t so lucky. The four of them are in his dorm, sharing a pizza during a study session. Jeremy’s waxing poetic about how he wants to make a pepperoni and cheese Fantasy Soylet flavour and Syr’s busy picking the mushrooms off their slice. “Jeremy,  _please_. We can’t keep doing this,” they say. “Pepperoni is never going to taste good cold and blended up.”

“Believe in my  _dreams_ , Syr,” Jeremy says. “Angus believes in me. Don’t you, Angus? Taako  _almost_  liked the first flavour. I’m sure of it. I just need to really nail this one and I’ll be golden.”

Angus does believe in positive reinforcement, but also he doesn’t want to lie to his friend. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up, sir,” he says, not looking up from the book he’s ready. “Taako is… you know, he’s  _Taako_.”

This statement is greeted by silence. It’s weird enough that Angus looks up, and finds all three of his friends… staring at him. “What?”

“You just… called Jeremy  _sir_ ,” Bernie says.

“I’ve never been called sir in my  _life_ ,” Jeremy says.

“I can’t believe you just  _respected_  him,” says Syr. “Angus, he wants to make  _pepperoni pizza drink-fast.”_

“Fantasy Soylent,” Jeremy corrects. “Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m  _old_. Angus is a  _child_  and I’m  _old_.”

“ _Sir_ ,” Bernie repeats. “Jeremy,  _sir_.”

Syr burst out laughing and reaches out to nudge Jeremy with their foot. “This is what you  _get_ ,” they says. “This is what you get for trying to make us drink pepperoni!”

Angus watches Jeremy have a minor crisis over getting older and silently vows to never, ever slip up again.


	4. Angus the Matchmaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I am way too invested in Angus’s “cool” college friends now (esp. Jeremy) and like. I need more. I need more “Angus helping/dealing w his weird older friends” shenanigans. Like do you think Angus becomes sort of the parent friend? Maybe the matchmaker, since he seems to be the only one out of them w an iota of suave? Imagine a 13 yr old setting up two college kids on a date like how iconic would that be"

The student pub is full to the brim with people. It’s the end of the semester and even the patio is packed with students celebrating finals being over. Angus, Jeremy, Bernie, and Syr are no exception, although their collective mood is somewhat tempered by Jeremy roping them into a taste test of his new Fantasy Soylent flavours.

“So pizza didn’t work out that great,” Jeremy says, pulling out three tumblers. Two are brown and the last is a disturbingly bright green. “The cheese wouldn’t blend right and the pepperoni was kind of bad? I did manage to knock up some other flavours though. Plenty to go around.”

Syr eyes the green tumbler warily. “Are you going to like… tell us what we’re drinking?”

Jeremy shakes his head. “Need to know if I got the flavours right. I want to know what you  _think_  they are. This is a blind tasting.”

“Yeah, but like…” Bernie gestures at the green drink. “Dude.”

“Fantasy Soylent Green is the flavour I’m most excited about,” Jeremy says. “You’ll never guess what’s in it.”

“I liked the name drink-fast better,” says Syr, scratching at their pink beard. “Seemed friendlier.”

“Taako is going to be here in two days to pick Angus up and teleport him away and I  _need_  to have a better pitch this time,” Jeremy says, giving them a pleading look. “Fantasy Soylent is the  _brand_ , Syr. It’s ironic. It’s  _iconic._ ”

Syr makes a face. “It’s terrifying.”

“Is there meat in them?” Angus asks.

“I saw you eat a BLT yesterday, Angus,” Jeremy says. “I know you don’t keep kosher. The pepperoni pizza flavour was a bad idea, I’ll admit, but this is different.” He pauses. “And there’s no pork this time.”

No pork is not the same as no meat. Bernie leans back, away from the tumblers. “Jeremy…”

“They’re  _good_ , I promise,” Jeremy says, and begins to dole out shots of one of the brown drinks.

“Angus McDonald!” someone calls from the other side of the patio. “Is that you?”

Angus says a quiet prayer to Istus as he twists in his seat towards the voice. Any excuse is a good excuse not to be one of Jeremy’s guinea pigs, but when he sees who it is, his face breaks into a smile and he waves. “Amélie!”

Amélie Boundless is one of Merle’s part-time Extreme Teen Adventure group leaders. Angus met her visiting Mavis during spring break. She’s almost twice Angus’s height, aggressively blonde, and looks like she could hold her own in an arm wrestling match against Magnus. Mavis loves her.

Angus arrived at Bottlenose Cover expecting to spend a week reading on the beach and instead found himself signed up for Extreme Teen Adventure Camp. “Amélie goes to your school,” Mavis said, starry-eyed over the prospect of spending a  _whole week_  in the woods with her. “She’s in the Druidic Conservation program. I saw her bench press a picnic table, Angus. I saw her have a whole conversation with a crab. She’s the coolest person I’ve ever met and I’ve met  _dryads_. We  _have_  to go.”

Angus had agreed, because Mavis is his best friend, and because brushing up his nature skills in the event of a case that required him to track a suspect through the woods or survive in the wilderness on his own for a while  _did_  sound like a good idea.

So Angus and Mavis joined three other twelve-to-fourteen year olds for a week of adventuring and they’d maybe run into a green dragon and had to defeat it with their wits and magics and, okay, it wasn’t a very  _restful_  spring break, but it was definitely memorable.

Amélie crosses the patio in a few strides of her long legs. She’s wearing cargo pants and a utility belt that sports everything from duct tape to an oversized knife. In the late spring sun, her bronzed skin practically glows with a healthy radiance that speaks to a lot of time spent outside.

“I wondered if I’d run into you at some point,” she says, clasping a big, calloused hand on Angus’s shoulder and squeezing. She turns her gaze to the rest of his table. “Who are your friends?”

“This is Syr, Bernie, and Jeremy,” Angus says. “Everyone, this is Amélie.”

“Hello,” says Amélie, smiling.

Angus’s friends just stare.

“Amélie’s doing Druidic Conservation,” Angus says, pushing his glasses up his nose. “We met over spring break.”

Syr looks at Amélie, and then at Angus, and then back at Amélie. “…  _How_?”

“Oh,” Amélie says. “I’m an Extreme Teen Adventurers camp counselor. Angus was in the week-long intensive course I did over the break. Best adventure I’ve lead so far!” She takes a seat next to Angus. “Are you going to come out again this summer?”

“Maybe,” Angus says. “I promised Taako I’d teach some summer courses for him though, and I want to visit the Bureau for a bit. Plus, Lup promised to teach me how to cast Mordenkainen’s Sword and, you know, how to wield it. I’ve done  _some_  fencing, but it’s a different kind of blade than the foils I’m used to. And I have a couple cold cases the Neverwinter Militia is hoping I can look into once my classes are done.”

Bernie, under his breath, whispers a quiet, “ _What the fuck_?” It’s probably a fair question. Angus knows his life is a bit more exciting that that of the average thirteen-almost-fourteen-year old.

“Well, if you find time to drop in, I think everyone had a lot of fun last time.” She pauses. “Although we probably won’t have to run off an ornery dragon again.”

“Whoa.” Jeremy holds up a hand. “Wait, _what_? Angus, you fought a  _dragon_  over spring break and you didn’t  _tell us?_ ”

“I mean, we didn’t really _fight_  it,” Angus says. “It was more like a negotiation. Green dragons like to make deals.”

“Yeah, you know chromatics,” Amélie says, waving a hand dismissively. “Always think they’re the smartest people in the room. It was a young one anyway—Angus’s age. Nothing too dangerous.”

“The dragon you ran into with your Extreme Teen Adventurers wasn’t too dangerous,” Bernie repeats, incredulously. “The  _dragon_.”

Amélie looks at Bernie, grinning and showing off straight, white teeth. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

“ _Holy shit_.” Jeremy breathes out the words like a prayer—like he, too, is thanking Istus that Amélie came out of nowhere and interrupted their taste test. When Angus looks at him, his red eyes are wide with awe and he’s staring at Amélie with a look on his face usually reserved for when he’s talking about his Fantasy Soylent dreams or waxing rhapsodic about Lup.

Jeremy has a type, and that type is extremely competent women who could easily take him in a fight.

Angus looks at Jeremy, awe-struck by Amélie, and then at Amélie, who is kind and brave and the only person he’s ever met as enthusiastic about jerky as Magnus, and something clicks in his head. “Amélie,” he says, “we’re all about to try the newest iterations of Jeremy’s meal replacement drink. They’re meant to give you a convenient, efficient full meal. You want to join us?”

Amélie’s attention turns to the tumblers full of Fantasy Soylent on the table in front of them and her eyes light up. “Oh, that’s a  _great_  idea,” she says. “That would be perfect for surviving in the Fey Wilds by yourself for a week.” She looks at Jeremy, earnestly excited. “ _Can_  I try them?”

Jeremy blinks in shock because Jeremy might be full of conviction that his product is a good product, but Angus is pretty sure this is the first time anyone’s been eager to try it out. Bernie and Syr both drink original Fantasy Soylent more than Angus does and even they’re reluctant to taste test new varieties.

Jeremy’s brain has maybe short-circuited. Angus has seen this before, mostly when people meet a member of the IPRE and they’re too starstruck to form coherent sentences. “Of course,” Angus says. “He’s always looking for more opinions during a taste test. Right, Jeremy?”

Jeremy nods and pushes the green tumbler towards Amélie. “This… this is my favourite,” he says. “This is the best one.”

Syr eyes the half-full glass of brown drink Jeremy had started to pour them before being distracted. “Starting us off with low expectations, huh?”

Amélie picks up the tumblr, pops off the lid, and takes a sip. All four of them watch her face as she considers the flavour and texture of the drink, and then Amélie drinks more of it and  _beams_  at Jeremy. “This is great! Is this key lime pie?”

“Yeah!” Jeremy beams back at her. “Yeah, Angus told me Taako likes key lime so like—so yeah, it’s key lime pie and I put bits of graham cracker in it too so you get of—I wanted it to have some  _texture_ , you know? So it wasn’t just like go-gurt?”

“It’s perfect,” Amélie says, and offers the tumbler to Angus. “Do you want a sip?”

Angus looks at the thick, bright green liquid in the cup. He can see bits of graham cracker floating on the surface and there just… there’s never been a time in his life when he’s wanted more  _texture_  from his drink. “No thank you. It sounds like you should keep it.”

“Seriously, this would be so perfect for survival trips,” Amélie tells Jeremy. “When you’re stranded in the middle of a forest with nothing but your backpack, your magic, and your wits. I love jerky, but sometimes you want variety.”

Jeremy pushes forward another tumbler. “This one is hamburger,” he says. “I wanted to do cheeseburger, but I can’t get the cheese to go smooth enough.”

“You should try powdered cheese,” Amélie says, reaching for the hamburger-flavoured Soylent. “Or nutritional yeast.”

“Oh my god,” Jeremy says. “You’re  _perfect_.”

Angus turns to Bernie and Syr. “Do you want to go to the dining hall and get something to eat?”

“Please,” Syr says. “Something I have to chew.”

Angus picks up his satchel and slings it over his shoulder. Jeremy and Amélie are excitedly discussing potential flavours to develop before Amélie’s next camping trip, so it’s easy to slip away.

“I can’t believe you found the one person in the world who’s as into Fantasy Soylent as Jeremy,” Bernie says. “I can’t believe she looks like she could throw him onto the pub roof without breaking a sweat. I can’t believe you spent your spring break taking on a  _dragon_.”

“I can,” says Syr. “It’s Angus.”

Bernie considers this for a moment, then nods. “That’s true. So like… do you  _have_  to be a teen to go on an Extreme Teen Adventure or is that just the  _brand?_ ”


	5. Barry Tries Fantasy Soylent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "So Barold "I forget to eat if nobody reminds me" Bluejeans would absolutely invest in fantasy soylent. Heck I feel like he'd probably ask Jeremy if he could help develop it."

“Do you think Lup’ll be here?”

Angus looks at Jeremy, practically vibrating out of his skin as they file into the planar physics lecture hall, already crowded with eager students and professors. “Jeremy,” he says. “Lup is married and you have a girlfriend.”

“Amélie understand. Amélie also has a crush on Lup,” Jeremy says, gaze going soft the way it always does when he talks about his girlfriend. “Amélie says I remind her of Barry Bluejeans. She wanted to come today. She has a crush on him too.”

Angus has long since given up on convincing his friends not to talk to him about the way they feel about the seven birds. Jeremy’s crush on Lup is a long standing institution now. Bernie’s crush on Taako is as vast as the astral sea. Syr is the  _sensible_  one, and even they’ve asked about getting Davenport’s autograph.

An autograph is better than Jeremy and his quest for a date with Lup. And Angus has  _no_  desire to think about what Bernie wants from Taako. Honestly, Jeremy talking about how much his girlfriend likes Barry is kind of the best case scenario.

“Are we going to be able to find seats together?” Jeremy asks, turning his attention away from fantasies of Lup and Barry to the busy hall. “Shit. We should have gotten here earlier. I didn’t expect  _everyone_  to come. What’s the  _divination_  department even hoping to get out of this? They barely even count as an arcane science.”

Barry J. Bluejeans doesn’t  _give_  guest lectures often. As far as most inhabitants of the material plane are concerned, he’s a reclusive hero and arcanist, pursuing his studies in peace and quiet. Advertising the fact that he’s a reaper for the Raven Queen would make his job much harder. Barry keeps a low profile. When he agrees to do things like give lectures on probability amplitudes in quantum artificing, it causes an improbable amount of excitement in certain segments of the population.

Taako and Lup would call them nerds and they’d be right.

“It’s fine,” Angus says, leading Jeremy down the lecture hell steps. “I asked Barry to save us seats.”

Jeremy stops walking, clutching at the straps of his backpack. “Oh shit,” he says. “You  _know_  him.”

“We’ve been over this,” Angus says. “I worked for the Bureau of Balance. Taako is my mentor. You  _met_  Taako.” Angus gestures at the tumbler in the side pocket of Jeremy’s backpack. “Taako tried Fantasy Soylent.”

“I know,” Jeremy says. “He hated it. It was  _awesome_.”

Angus takes another step towards the front of the room. Jeremy stays in place. “Jeremy,” he says. “Barry is the easiest one. He’s the easiest one to meet.”

“Angus, he’s a lich and probably the most brilliant mind in this plane,” Jeremy says. “How is that  _easy_?”

Angus doesn’t really think about the lich thing much, if he’s honest. He’s met literal actual Death and flown on a spaceship. Liches are mundane in comparison. “Barry’s nice,” he promises. “He won’t steal your books and play keep away with them as a goof.”

Jeremy frowns. “What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” says Angus. “I can meet you after the lecture if you want to hang back, but I should say hello.”

Jeremy hesitates for a moment, then steels himself, straightening his shoulders. “No, I’ll come,” he says. “Does he know I have a crush on Lup?”

“I promise it has literally never come up in conversation.”

Jeremy follows Angus down to the front of the hall. By the time they reach the bottom step, Angus is smiling because he loves school and his friends, but seeing  _family_  is good in a different way. Barry’s muttering under his breath as he goes through his notes, looking distinctly out of place in jeans and a t-shirt next to Professor Cardinal, Dean of Planar Physics, in her wizardly robes.

“Angus,” she says, when she spots him. “Mr. Bluejeans will have time for questions after the lecture, but—”

Barry looks up and grins, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Hey, bud,” he says, cutting the dean off. “I saved you and your friend seats up here. Just move my junk off the chairs.” He gestures to a couple of front row seats holding a jean jacket and a satchel. “Oh, and Taako says not to tell you he’s planning something this weekend.”

“Thank you, sir,” Angus says. “I’ll make sure to get my homework done ahead of time. This is my friend Jeremy.”

Barry turns his attention to Jeremy, setting his notes down to offer him a hand. “Nice to meet you, Jeremy,” he says. “Taako and Ango have both told me about you.”

Jeremy gives Barry’s hand a look of wide-eyed awe, then reaches out to shake it. “This is—I mean—you’re…” Jeremy pulls his eyes off Barry’s hand, looking up at his face instead. “I can’t believe you know who I  _am_.”

Professor Cardinal clears her throat. “Angus,” she says. “I didn’t know you knew… Mr. Bluejeans and… did you say  _Taako_?”

“Angus is Taako’s apprentice,” Jeremy says, letting go of Barry’s hand. He pats Angus on the shoulder. “He worked for the Bureau of Balance  _and_  he knows the Neverwinter Militia. They consult with him on cases sometimes.”

“I see,” says Professor Cardinal, looking very confused. “Well, it’s—it’s always nice to see our students succeed. If you’d take your seats so we could begin, boys…?”

“Yes, of course. Sorry to delay things, ma’am,” Angus says, smiling at Professor Cardinal and leading Jeremy away.

They take their seats and Jeremy leans in close. “Everyone is staring at us now,” he whispers, as the lights dim. “We talked to  _Barry Bluejeans_.”

“That happens sometimes,” Angus says, nodding. “I told you Barry was nice.”

Jeremy turns back to the front of the hall, his eyes fixed on Barry as he begins talking about quantum theory in a reverent tone of voice most people reserve for the love of their lives. “I’m going to tell him about Fantasy Soylent,” Jeremy says. “I’m going to get him to  _try_  it.”

Angus opens his mouth to protest the plan—to maybe point out that Jeremy shouldn’t force his personal tumbler of Soylent on every IPRE member he meets—and then closes it. Angus McDonald is one of the smartest people in the world. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

Honestly, Jeremy’s tenacity is admirable.

Barry’s swamped by students and faculty eager to talk to him after his lecture. Angus and Jeremy stay seated, waiting for Barry’s admirers to dissipate, and when he finally extracts himself from the crowd, Barry gives them a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that,” he says. “You two want something to eat? I’m starving and Taako mentioned there’s a pub with terrible fries around here.”

Jeremy’s eyes light up and he bounces to his feet. He fumbles with his backpack for a moment, then produces a tumbler. The Fantasy Soylent within is brown today and Angus has  _no_  idea what flavour it is. Jeremy and Amélie were working on a meatloaf version of soylent, last time he checked, and there was talk of a fish and chips variety.

He hopes, for Barry’s sake, that both are still in beta testing.

“If you’re hungry, try this,” Jeremy says. “I call it Fantasy Soylent. It’s a whole meal in drink form. I’m working on developing a whole line of drinks because it’s like—you know, you’re working and like… you  _could_  make something, but you’re working? But also you’re hungry. So then you have  _Fantasy Soylent_  to save you.”

“I’ve had it,” Angus says, because he can be supportive. “It’s not bad.”

“It sounds… efficient,” Barry says, after a moment. He glances at Angus for reassurance, then reaches out to take the container from Jeremy. “Good for long days in the lab.”

“Yes!” Jeremy claps his hands in excitement, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Yes,  _exactly_. It’s super efficient. I’m glad you understand. I thought you—I mean, my girlfriend tells me I remind her of you, so I  _thought_  you’d get it!”

In lieu of responding to  _that_  particular comment, Barry takes a sip of Fantasy Soylent. And then he pauses, eyebrows raising, and takes another. “This… tastes like a cheeseburger.” He looks down at the thick liquid in the container he’s holding. “I’m drinking a cheeseburger.”

“I know,” says Jeremy, grinning from ear to ear. “Isn’t it  _great_?”

Barry hands Jeremy back the tumbler and gives him a serious look. “Taako can never know I asked this,” he says. “But what other flavours do you have?”


	6. Angus Goes to a College Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "What about angus getting taken to a college party by his friends and kravtiz showing up because apparently someone was planning on killing everyone at the party for a necromancy ritual."

“Okay.” Syr adjusts the beanie on Angus’s head and takes a step back. “I think we’ve got this.”

Jeremy gives Angus a critical once over, head cocked to the side. “It’ll be dark out,” he says. “He’ll  _probably_  pass.”

“There’s no way this is going to work,” says Bernie. “I mean, I want Angus to come to the party as much as anyone, but—sorry, Angus—but  _look_  at him.”

Angus turns to look at himself in the mirror. They’re in his dorm, attempting to make him appear plausibly of-age because Syr, Jeremy, and Bernie  _desperately_  want to go to the Ritual Engineering Student Association’s quarterly kegger, but don’t want to leave him behind.

Angus, if he’s honest, wants to go too.

RESA is infamous for unveiling elaborately designed—but more-or-less useless—ritual circles at their parties. It takes a lot of work to build up a whole ritual, layering arcane symbol over arcane symbol, to have it do something mundane like open a soda can. It’s a testament to the skill of the casters who design the circle. Angus is eager to see one in action, which means going along with Jeremy and Syr’s plans to sneak him into the party in disguise.

It’s obvious looking at his reflection, though, that despite Jeremy and Syr’s enthusiasm, Bernie is right. He’s never going to pass. He’s gotten taller in the past few months, but that just means he’s all knobby knees and gangly limbs. He’s wearing a pair of jeans, one of Bernie’s flannel shirts, and Syr’s leather jacket. He looks like a kid trying on his older sibling’s clothes or wearing a costume. He looks like someone explained cool to him, once, and he tried to recreate it based on the description.

He looks very distinctly fourteen.

Angus turns back to his friends, reaching up to pull off the beanie and hand it back to Syr. He played along, but Angus wouldn’t be Angus McDonald if he didn’t have a backup plan. “Can I cast Disguise Self now?”

“Fine,” Jeremy says, shoulders slumping. “I thought we  _had something_  here.”

“No, you just wanted to dress up with Angus,” Syr says. “Me too, but at least I’ll admit it.”

“Yeah,” says Bernie. “My sisters used to do this to me. Sorry, Angus.”

Angus pulls out his wand and concentrates on his reflection as he casts the spell. He doesn’t want the change to be  _too_  dramatic—it’ll wear off in an hour, so subtler is better.

Angus doesn’t do anything to his height or his clothes or his hair, but he does borrow a familiar face. A face with dark skin, like his, although Kravitz has much, much better cheekbones and no freckles. If the rest of the party guests have enough to drink and he keeps his glasses on, it’ll work.

“Damn,” says Bernie. “Who’s  _that_  face from? Can I meet him?”

“No,” says Angus. His friends having crushes on members of his strange, overly large family is already enough of an issue without Bernie deciding he likes both Taako  _and_  Kravitz.

Bernie snorts, reaching out to pinch Angus’s cheek. “You get Jeremy an awesome girlfriend but you won’t even let me meet the handsome dude whose face you stole. Playing favourites.”

“He’s engaged,” Angus says, laughing as he knocks Bernie’s hand away. “And too old for you.”

“You say that about everyone,” Jeremy says, shaking his head.

“That’s because you have crushes on people who are over a century older than you,” Angus says. “On my  _family_   _members_  who are over a century older than you.”

“I can’t take this face seriously when it’s lecturing us,” Syr says, squinting at Angus. “It’s too handsome. Can we go to the party now? Before the spell wears off?”

Jeremy glances at his watch. “Shit, yeah. We better get going. Don’t want to miss the reveal. I heard last quarter they had a ten minute ritual that flipped a coin.”

Angus wants to see if he can figure out what the ritual RESA’s designed is supposed to do before they enact it. It’s not often he gets a chance to solve a time sensitive magic puzzle on his own time. There’s no lives at stake here—no case that rides on him foiling the plot of some Goldcliff gangster or wannabe warlock. It’s just for fun, the way college is supposed to be fun.

Ritual engineering is a big deal on campus. They have their own house—ostensibly a student residence for majors, but in practice more of a clubhouse. They actually won one of the competitions against Taako’s Amazing School of Magic, which means Lucas Miller is  _thrilled_  with the whole department. Thrilled enough to cut RESA a lot of slack, when it comes to things like throwing ragers on what is technically school property.

The music blasting from the house is audible from a block away. By the time the four of them reach the sidewalk in front of it, Angus is starting to doubt the need for a disguise spell. The party is loud, rowdy, and already spilling out onto the lawn. RESA’s parties are reputed to be the best on campus and everything from the red plastic cups in party-goers hands to the thumping bass of the music says they’ve earned their rep. Angus glances at Jeremy, who’s grinning like the RESA house in Christmas.

“I should have gone into engineering,” Jeremy says. “Planar physics—what was I  _thinking_?”

“That you wanted to be Barry Bluejeans,” Bernie says, without looking away from the party. “That’s what we were  _all_  thinking.”

“I wanted to be Davenport,” Syr says. “Come on, let’s get a beer.”

Angus follows them inside, letting Syr and their broad shoulders clear a path in the crowd of taller students. They make a beeline for the kitchen and, Angus assumes, the alcohol. Bernie and Jeremy behind him are exchanging enthusiastic commentary on who’s showed up and speculating on what RESA is going to do to top their last ritual.

“I hope it’s something like—what’s something cool? Something like, you know, flipping a water bottle so it lands standing up? Something like that,” Jeremy says.

“You’re secretly, like, thirty, aren’t you?” Bernie asks. “You’re the one who’s  _really_  in disguise here, not Angus.”

Angus glances back at them as they step into the kitchen. “Do you think we’ll be able to see the circle before they set it off?”

There’s a keg sitting beside the sink and, at Angus’s question, the elf monitoring it looks their way. “We’re going to blow your  _minds_  tonight,” he says, pouring beer into a cup and holding it out to Angus. “It’s our best ritual yet.”

Jeremy leans over and takes the beer. “Angus doesn’t drink,” he says. “I’m Jeremy. This is Syr and Bernie. We’re all, just like—just  _super_  pumped about your ritual. I almost went into ritual engineering, but then I decided on planar physics, but… you know, I thought about it too. A lot.”

“Yeah,” says the elf, looking Jeremy over. “Lots of people  _think_  about ritual engineering. Not everyone can hack it. It’s a tough program. I’m Tad, RESA President.”

Tad’s dressed in khaki shorts and a white button up. He’s got way too much gel in his hair and he says his name like he expects his reputation to have preceded him. Angus has met people like Tad before. Usually busting them on a case for money laundering or pyramid schemes.

He doesn’t like him, and Angus has  _very_  good instincts.

“Oh, we know who you are,” Jeremy says. “I mean,  _everyone_  on campus knows who you are.”

Angus is pretty sure that’s not true, but Jeremy pays more attention to student life than he does.

“Yeah,” says Tad, squinting at Jeremy and then looking at Syr and Bernie. He lets his gaze linger on Angus. “Aren’t you the ones who got the pub to build a patio? I think I signed your petition.”

“I’ll take a beer too,” says Syr, before Jeremy can confirm anything. “And Bernie.”

“The patio thing was pretty slick,” Tad says, as he pours the beers. “We’re kicking off the circle in an hour, but I can take you out back for show and tell first, since you got us a sweet patio set up. I don’t mind showing off. We’re fucking  _rockstars_  pulling this off.”

Somehow, Angus thought the head of RESA would be nicer than this. “I’d love to see it,” he says, adjusting his glasses. “Ritual enchantments are a special interest of mine.”

“Yeah, well. Like I said—not everyone can make it in the program.” Tad signals someone across the room to come take over the keg. “Britney’s keeping the riff-raff inside, but you’re with me so you’ll get a pass,” he says, leading them out the backdoor, past a half-orc girl in a RESA sweater standing watch.

The backyard is covered in paving stones and gravel and RESA has traced out an elaborate spell in chalk, sprawling across the yard. The lines of the ritual circle weave out from a clear circle of space in the center of the yard, accompanied by dozens of painstakingly drawn runes and protected with a paper-thin shielding spell that barely obscures the view of all their work.

Bernie whistles in admiration. “I have no idea what any of this means.”

Syr squints down at the part of the circle closest to them. “I think I recognize like… one of these symbols,” they say. “Is this Infernal?”

“There’s some Infernal,” Jeremy says. “Like… that means fish? I think? Fish or possibly deep? I can speak it, but my written Infernal is  _really_  bad.”

“It’s a summoning spell,” Angus says, after taking it in for a moment. He looks up at Tad. “You’re using Infernal and Celestial together?”

Tad gives Angus a surprised look. “Yeah,” he says. “You haven’t been talking to anyone in the Association, have you? They’re supposed to keep this quiet.”

“No,” says Angus. “I just read a lot.”

The ritual, when he looks it over again to try and work out  _what_  they’re summoning, doesn’t quite make sense. He’s been working on his Celestial and his Infernal is decent, but he’s not fluent in either. His understanding of rituals is  _very_  good, though, because he’s worked on them with Taako, and he can tell there’s something  _off_ about this one.

His eyes catch on a series of symbols, near the center of the circle, that he’s  _sure_  shouldn’t be there. They’re written in Infernal and the syntax suggests a name, but he can’t read it—literally. Angus’s eyes won’t focus on the words and that, more than anything else, is what tips him off.

“I think someone made a transcription error,” he says, looking up at Tad. “Whatever you’re summoning with this, I don’t think you want it showing up.”

Tad’s surprise quickly shifts to annoyance. “Look,” he says. “You might  _read_  about rituals, but this is what we  _do_. Trust me. This circle is going to work exactly as planned. We spent months on this.”

Angus glances at the name he can’t read again, then back at Tad. “I really think you should check your work before you set this off, s—Tad. It looks dangerous. I think you could hurt someone.”

Tad crosses his arms over his chest. “If you don’t want to be at our party, you don’t  _need_  to be here. You want me to get Britney to escort you and your friends out?”

“No!” says Jeremy, putting a hand on Angus’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “No, we’re cool, Tad. We’re fine. We’ll just go back in the house. No worries, bro.”

Jeremy tugs a protesting Angus back into the house.

Syr whacks Jeremy’s arm as soon as they get inside. “What the  _fuck_ , Jeremy?”

Bernie gives him an unimpressed look. “Did you just call him  _bro_?”

“Oh  _Tad,_ ” Syr says, hitting him again. “I’m  _so_  sorry. We’re cool. I’ll just ignore my  _actual_ friend.”

Jeremy lets go of Angus to rub his abused arm. “We can’t  _do_  anything about the circle if we get kicked out of the party,” he says, and lowers his voice, leaning in close. “You think I trust  _Tad’s_  word over Angus’s just because he’s president of RESA? Angus is way smarter than that dude. Come on. Have some faith in me.” He looks down at Angus. “What do you want us to do?”

Angus looks at Jeremy, then at Syr and Bernie, who also seem expectant, who also trust that he’s right about the ritual being flawed.

It’s good to have friends.

“Okay,” he says. “The door’s guarded and the spell’s shielded, but the good thing about a ritual  _this_  elaborate is we only have to scuff the chalk once to render it uncastable. I don’t know  _exactly_  what the spell is supposed to do, but it’s a summoning and there’s a name my mind won’t let me read at the center of the circle.” Angus pulls his pocket watch out of his borrowed leather jacket, checking the time. “We have—maybe forty minutes to do this. If we get upstairs, I can go out the window and use Feather Fall. Take down the shield, smudge a couple places on the spell for insurance, and then levitate myself back into the house or over the fence. Easy.”

“Easy,” Bernie repeats. “How the  _fuck_  did you just  _have that_  in your back pocket?”

“I was thinking like… Syr seduces Britney and we sneak out behind them making out or something,” Jeremy says. “Yours is better.”

“We can totally get you upstairs,” Syr agrees, nodding. “I don’t want to kiss Tad’s henchperson. Let’s—”

The music switches off, all at once, and there’s a sharp whistle from the backdoor as the party goes quiet.

“Cool,” says Tad, hopping up onto a chair. He raises an disposable cup in the air. “What’s  _shaking_ , AAS? Are you  _feeling_  it tonight?” A cheer goes up around them and Tad grins. “Hell yeah! Me and the rest of RESA are so excited to show you what we cooked up this year that we’re going to  _blow your minds_  by kicking things off early. It’s our best ritual yet. This is going to be a night you never forget. If you want to take this party out back, I’ll show you what I mean!”

There’s another cheer as Tad hops off his chair and the exodus towards the yard begins. People jostle past Angus and his friends on their way to get a good view of the ritual and Angus has to brace himself not to be pushed forward with the rest of the crowd.

“Fuck,” says Jeremy. “He sped up the timeline.”

“Bad guys tend to do that when they realize they’re about to get caught,” Angus says, frowning at the door as he pulls out his wand. “I was willing to believe the ritual was just a mistake before, but now I’m sure Tad’s up to something.”

“What the  _fuck_  is he trying to summon?” Syr asks. “He’s a college kid. Can you  _summon_  better grades?”

“Probably a demon,” Angus says. “Or something eldritch. Come on. We can’t help anyone from in here.”

“Can’t help anyone if we’re dead either,” Bernie says, but follows as they push through the crowd to get as near the shielded circle as possible.

Outside, Tad has a crystal orb in his hand and is chanting under his breath, waving it through the air. The tension is  _palpable_ , the audience watching with bated breath, the air thick with anticipation and excitement.

So thick with it, Angus realizes, that it’s  _channelable_ —especially if you have a crystal orb in your hand, one that’s maybe capable of capturing all the raw energy floating around. Especially if you’re standing in a crowd of people focused on seeing the ritual in front of them fulfill its purpose.

Angus’s grip on his wand tightens and he raises it, aiming at the orb, but a massive mint green hand closes over his wrist and forcing his hand down. “I don’t  _think_  so,” Britney says, stepping between the four of them and the circle. “Tad told me you were trying to sabotage tonight. What, planar physics is so jealous they have to come and ruin our party? Please.”

“You’re making a mistake,” Angus says, trying to tug his wrist free. “The ritual’s going to summon something you can’t control.”

“The ritual’s going to summon  _snacks_ ,” Britney says, rolling her eyes. “We have a whole table full of chips and stuff in the basement.”

There’s a low rumble, like thunder, from the ground beneath them, and then the whole of the summoning circle bursts into flames. Britney turns to look and Angus gets a clear view of Tad throwing his orb into the center of the circle. It stops mid air, hovering as tendrils of dark, crackling magic shoot off it, arcing down into the ground, orb pulsing with a deep purple light.

And then, it  _explodes_.

Several things happen all at once: The people in the crowd scream, unsure if this is part of a normal ritual or if they should run. Angus spots a flash of fear on Britney’s face—fear that a  _gleeful_  looking Tad doesn’t seem to share, standing front and center on the other side of the shielded ritual.

And a large, shadowy hand starts to rise from within the chalked circle, claw-tipped fingers grasping at the sky.

The air over the circle tears open and a skeleton wrapped in a long black robe steps out of it, scythe first. It takes one look around the yard, taking in the mass of panicking college kids and the spell and the hand, and then hooks its scythe through the shield laying over the ritual and rips it apart.

Angus watches as Kravitz smudges the spell with a foot and snuffs it out, banishing both the flames and the demon in one fell swoop.

Kravitz turns to face Tad, eyes blazing red in his skull, and looms over him. “What the  _fuck_ ,” he says, in a thick cockney accent, “is  _wrong_  with you?”

The stunned silence that fell over the crowd when Kravitz appeared is shattered when someone screams, and then everyone is pushing back, trying to get into the house and away.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Jeremy says. “Shit, we gotta go.”

Bernie grabs Jeremy’s arm, stumbling back a few steps. “Is that—”

“That’s fucking  _Death_ ,” Syr says, and grabs Angus’s hand. “Come on, let’s—”

“It’s fine,” Angus says, grabbing Syr and Jeremy before they get trampled trying to make it through the door with everyone else fleeing into the house. “Calm down.”

“It is  _not fine_ , Angus,” Jeremy says. “Oh fuck, why did we come here? I’m never going to another party again if I live, I swear. I—”

“Kravitz!” Angus yells, letting go of Syr so he can wave.

Kravitz’s head jerks around and even though he’s in skeleton mode, Angus can tell he’s surprised. He stops lecturing Tad for the moment, waving a hand and restraining him with a spell, then floats over to where Angus and his friends are standing. The last of the party scatters, some people fleeing over the fence to get away.

“Angus?” Kravitz looks down at him, for a moment, clearly puzzled, then glances around the yard for spectators before letting flesh reform over his features.

Angus hears Bernie gasp behind him, which is when he remembers whose  _face_  he’s currently wearing.

Kravitz raises an eyebrow, looking amused. “This is a new look for you,” he says, dropping the fake accent.

Angus can feel his cheeks burning as he cancels the Disguise Self spell. “It was—there were pressing circumstances,” he says. “I needed a disguise.”

“I’d say I’m flattered, except you seem to have used my face to sneak into a kegger,” Kravitz says. “A kegger where someone tried to summon a  _demon_.”

“We tried to stop him, Mr. Death,” Jeremy says. “I, uh, I’m Jeremy. Hi. I was  _not_  trying to summon a demon and hope I never see one again, I promise.”

Kravitz pauses to take Jeremy in. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says. “You’re the Fantasy Soylent one?”

Jeremy’s eyes go wide and he nods, once. “That—yeah, it… you know, for the, uh, the  _being_  on the go. Good for studying. And—look, I don’t have it with me, but maybe I could—you seem like a busy guy, you know. Maybe you don’t always have time… I don’t know if you  _need_  to eat, but—”

“You’re not selling Kravitz Fantasy Soylent, Jeremy,” Angus says. “This is Syr and Bernie. They’re my other friends.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Kravitz says, smiling politely. “Angus, I’m  _going_  to have to tell Taako about this. I don’t think he’ll  _care_  you were at a party, but…”

“I figured, sir,” Angus says. “I really only came to see the ritual. One of the students who helped make it said it was supposed to summon the snack table from the basement.”

Kravitz snorts, looking down at the smudged circle beneath their feet. “Taako would expel them for missing something so obvious.”

“Ren would walk the expulsion back,” Angus says. “I think Tad had some of the symbols obscured with a spell before the ritual started. There were a few I couldn’t read when I looked directly at them.”

Kravitz hums and turns to face Tad again. “This is your first warning, Tadwick Tiffnel,” he says, in a voice that resonates in Angus’s ears and sends chills down his spine. Kravitz’s accent isn’t cockney anymore, but it’s not his normal accent either—this is Kravitz speaking with the weight of the Raven Queen behind his words. “You will not receive a second. Another infraction and your soul will spend the rest of time in the Eternal Stockade, imprisoned with others who would destroy the natural order of all things.”

The spell restraining Tad releases and Tad drops to his knees, gasping for breath and shaking. Kravitz watches him for a moment, then looks around the yard and sighs. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to talk Lucas Miller into implementing an ethics course. Taako made eggplant parmesan for dinner.”

“I can pass on a message if you’d like, sir,” Angus says, absentmindedly casting a binding spell on Tad. “I’ll keep an eye on Tad and call the militia too. They know me here.”

“You don’t mind?”

Angus shakes his head, holding up his stone of farspeech. “I have Lucas’s number. I’ll pass on your regards and let him know you’ll follow up about a course.”

Kravitz smiles and smooths his hands over the front of his robe. As he does, it transforms around him, shiting into a well-tailored suit. “Thank you,” he says, stepping back so he can open another rift with his scythe. “I’ll tell Taako you said hello.”

A moment later, Kravitz is gone, back to the astral plane and then, Angus assumes, home to the apartment he and Taako share.

“Holy shit,” says Bernie. “Death is  _hot_.”

“Taako from TV is engaged to the  _Grim Reaper_ ,” says Syr. “The  _actual_  Grim Reaper.”

“Angus,” Jeremy says. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what the  _fuck_  is your life?”

Angus stops scrolling for Lucas’s number in his contacts and looks up at his friends. Tad is struggling against his spell, covered in chalk dust from the remains of the ritual. The ground is littered in disposable cups and it’s likely going to be a long night, once the militia arrives. One full of giving statements and trying to explain that an emissary of the Raven Queen stepped in to stop the ritual. It’ll be messy.

Things usually are, when his family gets involved.

Angus smiles at Jeremy and Syr and Bernie—at his  _friends_ —and shrugs. “Well, it’s never dull,” he says. “Would you mind calling the militia and telling them Angus McDonald says there’s been a code 10-14 at the Academy of Arcane Sciences? I need to call Lucas Miller and give him a lecture on the importance of teaching arcane ethics and avoiding the Eternal Stockade.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed these fics, please leave a comment of kudos! They're what keep me writing.
> 
> Especially relevant to _this_ particular series, come and say hello over on tumblr! I'm [marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com/) over there and am always happy to have you hit up my askbox.


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